


Guerrilla Markings

by Sanoiro



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 15:41:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanoiro/pseuds/Sanoiro
Summary: Lucifer snaps when he learns that Marcus is using Chloe. A very short scene I had after watching 3x19 and the promo of 3x20.





	Guerrilla Markings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Navaros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navaros/gifts).



* * *

 

 

**Guerilla Markings**

 

 

Lucifer is a mess. Everything feels wrong. Eyes red, swollen and sticky, clothes rubbing him raw, hair falling limb on his forehead while crackling ancient bones seem unwilling as he forces them to move.

She didn’t believe him and why should she? He is mad, the dark dancing twinkle he left her with at the investigation room, a proof he was indeed an Idiot. Rush and impulsive.

So he does what the Devil does best. He acts.

“You bloody wanker!”

He screams and for that alone, he is certain, as his throat feels scratchy and sore from the first unearthly growled word. No one dares to touch, stop or even restrain him.

And like that, they are _**gone**_. Out of sight, out of mind.

The raised ground where Uriel rests under has not long gone flat. For the first time, he wishes the _only way_ was feasible but for now it’s a long shot and the only one he has.

Cain gurgles a laugh. Jaw broken, blue eyes glazed in pain and mirth. He will heal soon enough Lucifer thinks as he finds support to the nearest tree, hands in his pockets playing with the cigaret packet and the monogrammed silver lighter.

“I kept her safe for two years.” He whispers to the still of the Griffith park with only a frightened running coyote at the distance.

Not a cruel man by nature Lucifer is surprised when his steps bring him above Marcus, heel digging on the slowly mending jaw. Prolonging the pain is the only thing he can do so Lucifer takes his tearful baptism in torturing through the blood and pain of the first Murderer.

“Is this what you wanted from me?” He asks absently the clear sky as he ignites with a lungful a cigarette, lighter flicking rapidly in his dexterous fingers.

He is but the cruel son of a cruel father. Marcus a cruel creation, of cruel Creator.

“The morning is yours but the night was always mine.” Lucifer taunts him, ashes falling on bloodstained lips.

Before the fire reaches the butt, several perfect circular marks have been placed carefully on Marcus exposed skin. Lucifer’s Marks.

And the night has enough hours. More than enough for some, not nearly enough for others.

The next day no one questions Lucifer’s presence at the precinct, The Lieutenants aggressive possessiveness over Decker. Some do complain about the stench of smoking and something foul, like the smell of burning flesh, lingering in the air.

It’s just the beginning and there are no limits, no other ways anymore. Just one. Protect _her_.

 

The End

* * *

 


End file.
